


Deep Waters

by ToxixRoxChemical



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Explicit Language, Gore, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Underage Drinking, Violence, Violent Thoughts, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-28 22:56:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17191850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxixRoxChemical/pseuds/ToxixRoxChemical
Summary: N̸͚̮̓̓̉į̷̻͆͆͗c̵̙͗͝h̷̨̤̩̓ţ̴͙̉͗s̴̲͗͘,, A messed up teenager with gruesome thoughts devouring her mind. Comforted by only the darkness and silence of the privacy of her room at night. With red splatters and streams coating her frontal lobe, she only sees the purpose for death and destruction. Even her own demise is a dream. Will there be a day she will find something not so pleasing to her eyes? Mind whispering of self-termination, but the heart is whimpering a lustful cry for more.(On Hold for a long while. I'm working on other things right now)





	1. Author Note: Please Read

This story is not meant for the faint of the heart, maybe not even anyone. There are many disturbing gross themes within this work past this chapter. So please turn back if you didn’t heed the tags before. If you really want to read some of this, there are warnings in the summaries of each chapter. 

 

I’m honestly a pretty disgusting person, and while writing this I let some of my sadistic gross side come out. A lot of it is because I find many horror movies and video games cliche and have a need to make something terrifying and gross for my standards. Though I’m not too bad, I write mushy cuddly stuff. I’ve got decent SFW and NSFW books on my profile and not many have blood references. So it’s rare for this to come out of me. 

  
  


So far only the first chapter is finished and I’m not sure I’ll continue this further than that. But I honestly have a lot of plot ideas and characters for this work. So if you're brave enough to read further, please give some feedback on this. 

 

Good luck to those willing to continue on. There is a lot of heavy ass stuff and feelings I poured right into this from the dark side. 


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ⚠Warnings⚠: References to depression, Obvious mental issues, Violent thoughts, Suicidal/Homicidal thoughts, Mention of Vomiting, Near (actual) Violence, Underage Drinking, Implied/Referenced (Child) Abuse, Mention of sexual themes (sexual fantasies, mentions of kinks and just word choice)

Laying there, letting myself soak in my misery. The cold dark, deep as the ocean consumes me as the sheets remain as the rocky ruff of the bottom of the sea. There is no need to turn and look away from the crumbling plaster above. It is the only thing that entertains me when the darkness comes and the day has rotted away like a banana peel. Dancing with images the darkness makes up for my head, like the nightmares that crawl at the edges of my eyes. 

This has been my home. I cannot count the days, months, or years that I’ve felt like this. The dark has welcomed me with its massive tendrils, hugging me like a noose. But the worst part is the silence. That dafting silence, rearing its ugly head when the lights go dim and the sun has died outside the windows. Drowning me in its insufferable agony. It is as sharp as a knife, yet dull. For the red has not spilled upon the gruesome carpet. Yet the silence is a drug. Sugary and sweet like milk chocolate. Lasting in the mouth, yet melts easily away with the voices. However the bitterness hits me, coffee with no additions to it’s brewing liquid swirling with steam. At times, I swash it in my mouth just to feel the burn upon my tongue. Oh, the joy, of blisters upon the tool I use to speak. Throat scorched, ready to scratch a disc to no repair. Vocal cords begging for relief, yet to have none as I wallow in the wonders of dead lips. 

  
  


Beg me to speak, I dare them so. These lips shall not utter such damning words from these pages. They flaunted their knowledge, but I can see through the lines. The drapes are tattered open for all to see, yet not a single eye gazes upon such lies. Smacked in the face, I will spew their truth. But even then, the fools are as deaf as they are blind. 

White walls, like an asylum. Made of tough brick, like steel bars of a jail cell. Four of them on each side keeping me contained like an animal. It’s a madhouse. A zoo. The two-legged monkeys howling and screeching down the halls. I can never tell if they even speak the same language as I. Their brains seemed to have melted with those nuclear screens glued to their faces. It’s only a wonder how their lives stand straight as an arrow. 

This damn kindle I sit in every day feels like a straight jacket, my body itching to move an inch every second. They will not contain me any longer, the truth will unseal these pursed lips. Zipped teeth, knotted tongues. Everything will be undone. And once said and done, I will leave this hell for good. 

 

“N̸͚̮̓̓̉į̷̻͆͆͗c̵̙͗͝h̷̨̤̩̓ţ̴͙̉͗s̴̲͗͘, will you please just read the paragraph”, Her hellish-ness spoke out, nose like a toucan. Angry wrinkles disfiguring her once young face. How she would look nice rotting in the ground, six feet under in a dark coffin where the silence and darkness welcomed one for eternity. My lips remained steeled, not tempted by her succubus charm that has enraptured ever fool sitting in the desks beside me. “Do you wish to leave for not cooperating again?”, She snarled like a rat’s nest. The poison dripping from her gaping mouth, yet it did not kill her. “You are nothing but an old hag. How I stand to stare at your eyes is beyond me. They lead to that breaking black heart that still continues to beat within that raggedy cage you call ribs”, I muttered under my breath, my whimpering heart hoping for those words to break the eardrums of this antagonizing bird. Hoping for the red to run, to stream down that dusty skin that covered the decaying meat and bones within. A splatter would look nice on these haunting walls, spicing up the bleak view. Specks of dust even dare to liven up the empty spaces. “Speak up and sit up straight young lady!”, the squawking was deafening. Her nagging buzzed in my ears like a ruddy nat. I wish to squash her under my boot. Stomp on the skull and chip it away. Smothering the red into the dull marble-like tiles. 

But I refrain. With hopes gone I have nothing more to really say than the vulgar words dripping lustfully at the tip of my tongue. “Fuck you old hag”, My smooth lips curved nastily, speaking grotesque things I do not intend to say in all my lifetime. For it is the words the monkey’s use in vein. However, upon these lips the words have a nice ring, giving my tongue a fuzzy feeling. Almost like when my brain buzzed when I gulped that sweet stinging liquid from the large glass bottle one night. Stirring of my stomach and burning of my veins took my body for a  joy ride. The best part, however, was the retching diaphragm within me as I kneeled over the porcelain throne. Chunky goodness spewing past my lips. Like hellfire on the fleshy skin of my esophagus, making me only hope it makes a hole. To let the acid flow into my inner belly and alit it with warmth. Make me feel as if I’m cozied next to a fire sipping upon the hot cocoa my nanna used to make. Spiced with the rat poison to let it slip down easier. 

“Leave at once! Right to the principal’s office for you little brat!”, that bird shrieked and flailed as if permanently grounded. She could have said something before, anyone could have. But I was lost in the maze of wonderful thoughts of red and green. There are few other colors, however, none as refined as those. Ripping off that straight jacket, I stand from the kindle. Shuffling my bizarre shoed-feet across the ground, I take my leave out the door. The bird’s squawking and shrieking sounds following me like a lost puppy. I’d kick it if I could. 

 

Waiting… with seconds, minutes, and hours passing. It is not welcoming as the dark, more annoying than any of the creatures that throttle me deliciously at night. Not to mention the deflated cushion underneath me seems to crawl with bugs against my clothed covered skin. Comfort is vaguely used in hell, for it is not talked sweetly amongst the beady-eyed zoo-keepers. They do not care for it, least not about mine. My naughty mouth should be washed with soap, one said to me once. However, they do not see the positive effects of such a thing. My mother had put soap in my mouth, vast different kinds and yet I still welcome the foamy feeling. It made me feel like a rabid dog, with teeth ready to tear someone limb from limb. Taste the flesh full of life. Throttle. Shake. Rip. let the warm red seep across my tongue and stain my pearly whites, till the struggles and cries still in the air. My favorite would be the bars of solid soap, like cheese I can chew through it in hopes of swallowing a big enough piece. Begging to choke on the delightful flavored brick. I would not complain if my punishment was old fashion. The rulers were also a wonderful drastic measure. 

“Come in, N̸͚̮̓̓̉į̷̻͆͆͗c̵̙͗͝h̷̨̤̩̓ţ̴͙̉͗s̴̲͗͘,”, The tall brooding man, like a raven with slicked back features beacons me with a low tone of voice, “Come take a seat”. I stand once again, only to take a worse spot in a puffy armchair across from the man’s towering wheeled desk chair. It appears as though it was made of leather, which was such a waste. Something so nice used for meaningless things. I’d rather have it take form of the belt my father would wear when the smashed bottles littered the ground of the living room. The blinding glow of the flashing TV lighting the background as the darkness tries to hug my marked skin. “This is the fourth time you’ve been down in my office. Why must you act out in such a vulgar way?”, he sounded sophisticated, yet underneath he could have been foolish as the monkeys sitting in rows. With blank eyes, I stare into his windows to the soul. They were like the ocean, swimming and vast. Untold thoughts in their depths. How I envied this man. With his sleek black suit and tightened tie. Life all made out for him. A dictator at it’s finest. The only thing missing was the gas chambers in the bathroom, awaiting their next experimentation day. Letting out a heavy sigh, the man straightened his glasses. Almost as if nervous of my behavior. It could only be hope talking. “You will be suspended for quite some time. I’m done with giving you warnings”, Those words spilling from his mouth were like a choir of angels. Heaven’s message has been sent finally. My silent heart began to beat, pumping that red plushness within till my ears pounded with ecstasy. “I will call your guardians to let them know of this and to pick you up”, The man reached to grab the standard plastic phone upon his desk. But he was too late, or rather his hands almost got smashed to pieces if he hadn’t pulled back. The bones within would have been turned to dust, and a beautiful cry would have left the strong man’s plump lips. Blood-curdling to the ears of the outside. That is why I like the metal hammer held tightly in my hand. Having stolen it from the supply closet on my way to the principal’s office. Making the risks all more scrumptious, but no matter how warm my veins were my eyes were colder than the freezer in my basement after hours of sitting in its empty dark depths. Those wide eyes, showing more of the whites helped feed the need for the pleas. It will do for now. “What has gotten into you?!?!”, the man released a panicked squeak, reminding me of a mouse. Have I turned into the bird of prey? No matter, the tables have turned like a record playing with those lovely little cracks faltering the music just a tad. “You're not to call them to touch me. Their filthy fingers should not taint the pure darkness writhing within. Next time you try something like that, I’ll use a knife for your little sausages”, my voice was soft, barely just speaking over a whisper. Oh, how I wished these wondrous words of venom produced like bullets from these damned lips. But the cotton mouth and scratchy throat have caught up to me today. However, I dismiss the loathing as I hear his little mousey peep escape that unmarked throat. I can just imagine my hand around that lovely set of windpipes, hearing his pleas and cries for release. So lewd, so exciting… so damn blue. I’ve got myself all overwhelmed with adrenaline and ecstasy, my face must be tinted with pink and breath shorted. Such a sight, wish to see it in the mirror with a belt around my neck and knife marks staining my complexion with red streaks. 

“Dear me, I must be getting off topic. My mind is wandering on its own legs”, I apologized with a devilish grin, my lips finally curling in beauty. A slow lick, wetting my lips sultrily, “Now that I’ve got your attention and my warning is in place. I will take my leave and you won’t tell a soul. Unless you wanna have me come back and use that tie in a more useful way~”. Hot around the collar, that tie has caught my eye countless times. One of the reasons why I respect this man in a way, the only one out of all these animals I considerably like. To the point where I wouldn’t outright paint the walls with the red flowing inside of him. No, I’d have my fun. Turn him into my bitch in heat before I turn my face to that dashing face hidden deep within. Eyes focused on him, I see my cue. His Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped in fear. Then I turn and walk out of that office, hammer still held in my hand. Firm grip turning my knuckles white, secretly hoping he’d slip up so I could turn and swing my closed fist right into the bridge of his nose. Mark my knuckles with bruises and have a little blood to dry on my skin. A parting gift. 

 

Mark my cheeks with that flush, on my. That frigid breeze does wonders on the warm human flesh. Especially when I’m already so red from the encounter, the thoughts… the exhilaration. Is this what it means to live? To let your heart beat under pressure? To let the veins warmth your soul with liquid? If it is, I want it to gush like an amputated limb. Seep and spew across the insides within.

My feet stutter to a dead halt at the edge of the sidewalk, blocks from my home… my room. That sweet darkness waiting for me to lay down again. Soon to have silence walk behind to cuddle next to me like a porcupine. But would it be a sin? Would it hurt to walk away? Would the silence scream out in anguish while the darkness tugs at my clothes like a wounded child? That feeling from earlier. The one that jump-started my heart as if a live wire was skewered into my skin like a needle. It felt good. If felt  _ really _ good. I want to feel it again and again. Until there is nothing else to feel. ‘I’ll crawl back to the darkness and silence then’, I tell myself, my eyes turning the opposite direction of my home. “It won’t be long, I promise my sweetness”, I cooed under my breath, as if the darkness was caressing me as I silently tell it goodbye. 


End file.
